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I nod as a fresh round of tears escapes and spills down my cheeks. “But he swears it’s not true. He wanted to explain it to me, but I bolted. And after he chased me down the hall and through the lobby and to my car, I didn’t want to hear any of it. Because even if what he says is true, why didn’t he tell me? We’ve talked so much over the last week. So why not explain it to me then? Why hide something like this if it means nothing?”
And that is the biggest question of them all. If what Gavin told me is correct—that he and Layla are not together—why not tell me about her from the get-go? If there is nothing to hide, he should have been forthcoming. Not let me find out later or in some roundabout way.
Shelly nods as she sits immobile. Her eyes fog over as her brain works double time. I stare at her as she sorts through all the details and tries to devise possible reasons why Gavin left this one piece of information out. Layla isn’t some minor tidbit. Not equivalent to admitting you have a dog that may not get along with my cat. No, Layla is a huge bomb to leave unattended. A bomb that blew up in both our faces.
As it stands right now, my heart feels like it has been run over by a semitruck. Then it backed up and squashed me a second time for good measure. My head hurts—from the endless tears I keep crying and the thought that Gavin lied to me. Yes, it was a lie of omission. But he could have just told me and purposely chose not to.
And that hurts more than anything.
With his line of thinking, I have no doubt he planned to fly back to California and cut ties with whatever “fake engagement” he and this Layla woman have. Then, I would be none the wiser. Right? But I am a firm believer in the old adage “everything happens for a reason.” There is a reason Gavin never brought her up. Perhaps he thought it would be pointless. Maybe he thought the two of us would never meet and didn’t see why it was pertinent to disclose that part of his past. Or maybe he couldn’t figure out a way to tell me without hurting me. I have no clue. The only question rolling around in my head now is why did I need to know? What do I gain from this?
Do I only want to know because it is a piece of Gavin? A part of his past that doesn’t include me. A gap filled by another person. Another woman. A woman who he claims is just a friend after she flaunted their familiarity.
Is this me punishing myself? Pushing him away so he doesn’t break my heart again? Although, fragments are chipping from the edges and falling to my feet.
“I don’t want you driving home tonight,” Shelly says as she sweeps a few stray hairs from my face and tucks them behind my ear.
And the last thing I want tonight is to be alone. Shelly probably knows this—twenty-plus years of friendship teaches you these things. Plus, going home would entail me stripping the sheets from my bed. Sheets that smell of Gavin and me and the two of us tangled together this morning. Sheets full of memories of his lips on mine, his hands on my skin, his body fit perfectly against mine.
“You’re okay with me staying?”
“As if you have to ask.” She leans forward and wraps her arms around me. “You are always welcome in my home. No matter what.”
I hug her as if it was our last. Shelly is a great friend. The best a girl could ask for. And I am thankful every day I have her in my life. To have her big heart and warm hugs.
After the couch transition
s to my makeshift bed for the night, Shelly gives me one last hug before going to her room. I turn off the tall floor lamp across the room and slip under the blanket. The moment my eyes close, flashes of Gavin spill from my memory.
Memories of us as teenagers—at school, under our tree, walking the beach at sunset, our first kiss—and memories of the last week—his cocksure smile, how easily we slipped back into old habits, the way he looked at me, how he held me, kissed me, promised me the future.
And I am crippled by the pain that spins a vicious web throughout my body. It twists and spirals and weaves itself around my organs and engulfs me with an unfamiliar force. The gravity of it all crushes my heart ten times more aggressively than it did thirteen years ago. Knocks the breath from my lungs. Blinds me.
I draw my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them as another wave of tears bleeds from my eyes. As my body tremors more violent than the earth ever could.
How could I let this happen again? How could I get in this deep? Let myself fall in love with Gavin Hunt a second time?
The answer is simple. Always has been. I belong to Gavin. But does he belong to me?
Three
Gavin
Thirteen years ago
The plane jolts forward as the wheels touch down. A shriek from the brakes echoes in my ears and I wince. I stare out the window and take in the landscape surrounding the airport as we taxi to our gate. I haven’t stepped off the plane yet and I already hate this place. Hate everything it represents. Hate everything it stole from me.
I reach around to my back pocket and grab my phone. After switching off airplane mode, I open the text screen and type out a message to Cora.
Gavin: Just landed. It’s only been hours, but I miss you already. So much.
My phone jingles and pings with notifications as it catches up from being offline the last six hours. Seconds later, Cora responds. Her notification the only one I check.
Cora: I miss you too. Text or call when you get to your new house.
House is the operative word in her message. Because where my parents are moving us to is a house. Not a home. There is only one place I will ever call home. Wherever Cora is. She will always be my home.
Gavin: I will. Hopefully we’ll get there soon.
